


Don't You Wanna Dance With Me, Baby

by dragonsandgayships



Series: A Bunch of Random TMI Roommate AUs [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Kissing, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Roommates, Slow Dancing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, that's legit all it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 06:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18845698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsandgayships/pseuds/dragonsandgayships
Summary: “So we’ll slow dance. Anyone can slow dance,” Magnus suggests.“You can’t slow dance to eighties pop, Magnus.”“Don’t be ridiculous, Alexander, you can slow dance to anything.”“No, you can’t. You can only slow dance to slow music. That’s why it’s called slow dancing and not all-purpose movement of the body for any song that’s convenient at the time,” Alec says, appearing equally exasperated and endeared.





	Don't You Wanna Dance With Me, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: THIS IS THE SAPPIEST SHIT I HAVE EVER WRITTEN. IT IS CAVITY-INDUCING. I AM LEGITIMATELY DISGUSTED WITH MYSELF. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
> 
> Also it's three thirty in the morning and I wrote this all in one go so sorry if it feels rushed. And also this is my first try at a kiss scene, so please be nice even if it's complete shit, thanks.
> 
> Title from 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)' by Whitney Houston.

_ Oh, I wanna dance with somebody _

_ I wanna feel the heat with somebody _

_ Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody _

_ With somebody who loves me _

 

Magnus spins around his apartment, hair and robe billowing out beautifully behind him as the image of his living room flashes past him over and over again, too quickly to catch more than a glimpse of anything before it’s torn from his field of vision. Everything fades to a blur, and he tips his head back and lets his feet grow light, carrying him across the floor with abandon and no guide but the beat of the music.

His side meets with something solid suddenly and there is a startled yowl, abruptly halting the rhythm of his reckless wheeling through the room. He looks down to see that he has collided with the couch, and the disgruntled green eyes of his cat staring up at him in betrayal.

Magnus mentally chides his past self for so stupidly deciding to place the couch in the middle of the room, where it was clearly in a perfect position to interrupt future otherwise uninhibited dancing throughout the apartment in the middle of the night. His past self had obviously not been thinking about important aspects of spatial reasoning, such as the need for large areas of empty floor without painful pieces of furniture for impromptu late-night revelry. That was clearly an oversight. He makes a mental note to rearrange later.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he coos apologetically to Chairman Meow, reaching out to pet his cat’s fur. The Chairman doesn’t lean in to Magnus’s touch, but he does accept his owner’s tentative strokes without complaint. “Papa didn’t mean to wake you. I just got a little carried away. I apologize.” Chairman Meow continues glaring.

“Forgive me?” Magnus pleads coaxingly.

The small gray cat holds his stare unblinkingly for a few more seconds before meowing softly as if in acquiescence and stretching languidly.

Magnus brightens and reaches out, asking silent permission to pick up his cat. “Since we’re both awake now, would you like to dance with me?” Chairman Meow mews again and Magnus lifts him off the couch, holding him close to his chest. “Thank you,” he whispers, cuddling his cat closer before picking up where he left off, spinning around the room (albeit slower and more carefully so as not to disturb the bundle of fluff in his arms or accidentally crash into any more furniture.)

 

_ I need a man who'll take a chance _

_ On a love that burns hot enough to last _

_ So when the night falls _

_ My lonely heart calls _

 

He’s just getting back into the swing of it, letting his mind go blank and allowing himself to get lost in only the feeling, when he hears  a thud from the doorway behind him. Magnus stops and turns as dramatically as possible, already knowing who it’s going to be.

Alec Lightwood stares back at him with bleary eyes. It’s clear that he just stumbled out of bed, his eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the light of the living room, and he looks adorably (and rather deliciously, in Magnus’s opinion) rumpled. He’s wearing a green silk bathrobe that hangs open, revealing a gray T-shirt that’s been worn thin by years of use and a pair of sweatpants that have also seen better days. Magnus would guess that he probably just threw on whatever he could find first, given that it’s the middle of summer and their building’s air conditioning is unreliable at the best of times, meaning that wearing anything more than a pair of boxers to bed usually runs the risk of sweating to death most nights. Magnus allows himself to entertain the brief thought of Alec asleep and shirtless and smiles to himself slightly.

“Magnus,” his roommate says, and then stops, apparently having nothing more to say than that.

“Yes?” Magnus replies inquisitively, raising his eyebrows in innocence. He’s aware of what he must look like, hair disheveled and face flushed, lip-syncing passionately in the middle of the apartment alone save for his cat. The Chairman meows from his arms. Magnus silently thanks his cat for his support. With their matching wide-eyed expressions they make a picture of perfect angelicness. 

“Magnus,” Alec repeats again, seeming at a loss for words. His face appears to be fighting a war with itself over which emotions to display, though from the looks of it bewilderment and exasperation are to be winning out at the moment. He walks over to the stereo and switches it off, then turns back around and crosses the floor to his roommate, stepping up close until they’re almost chest to chest except for the space he leaves so as not to squish Chairman Meow, and takes the other man’s face in his hands.

“Magnus. It is three A.M. What the actual fuck?”

“Alexander,” Magnus says solemnly, adjusting his grip on his cat so that he can use one hand to gently grab hold of one of his Alec’s wrists. “You know I would love to give you an answer to that question.”

Alec just looks at him.

“I don’t have one.”

“No,” Alec replies, shaking his head with an expression something like vacant bemusement. “No, you’re just playing Whitney Houston at max volume in the middle of the night for no reason.”

“Yes. I sometimes do that.”

“Because we’re trying to get the neighbors to hate us.”

Magnus cracks a grin. “Trust me, there was never much love to be lost there. They’re used to it. Compared to some of the other things I’ve done that they’ve complained about in the past, this is practically tame.”

“Why?” Alec asks, shaking his head again dazedly like he only half heard Magnus’s response.

Magnus shrugs noncommittally.

“I just live here,” mutters Alec. “Why is this my life? Maia told me she had room for someone to stay with her. She offered me a room. Why did I not take her up when I had the chance?”

“Because you had already decided to stay with me,” Magnus supplies helpfully.

“Yes. Why did I do that?”

“Well, I would hope it was because you appreciate my company and couldn’t bear the thought of having to deprive yourself of a moment in my presence,” Magnus says.

Alec snorts. “Please. If I didn’t love the Chairman so much I would have left you long before now.”

Magnus gasps in offense. “Are you really saying you’ve only stayed with me this long because of my cat? Because I hate to disappoint you, but he loves me more. Don’t you, Chairman?” he asks, relieving his hold on Alec’s wrist and looking down to scratch his cat’s belly.

Chairman Meow, apparently deciding that he’s tolerated enough of his humans’ antics, leaps out of Magnus’s grasp and strolls back over to the couch, his tail in the air.

“See, he loves me more,” Alec says with satisfaction.

“Lies,” Magnus murmurs, smiling softly at his roommate. Neither of them has made a move to step back yet. Just looking at someone should not be able to conjure up such feelings of affection in him, but he can’t help but feel an overwhelming rush of fondness whenever he looks at Alec. He hasn’t been able to for a while. “Besides, even if this ends badly, I’ll still get custody.”

Alec sighs. “Stealing our child from me,” he says sorrowfully, trying to suppress the edges of his smile. “How dare you.”

Magnus’s heart skips a beat. He doesn’t have anything to say in response to that, so he just continues smiling and sways his shoulders slightly in the comfortable silence they let settle around them.

Looking down, he registers something suddenly. “Is this mine?”

“Oh,” Alec says sheepishly, his gaze flitting downwards to the robe he’s wearing, which Magnus has just reached out to grab hold of. “Yeah. Sorry, it was in my room from the last time you fell asleep on my bed, and it was just the first thing I grabbed when I got up to come out here, so…” He trails off, blushing slightly. “You can have it back if you want.”

“Keep it,” Magnus offers. “It looks good on you. Though blue might look better,” he adds thoughtfully. “Bring out your eyes.”

Alec sighs fondly and shakes his head. “And that’s my cue to leave. I’m going to go back to bed. See you in the morning, Magnus.” He starts to turn away, but Magnus catches his wrist again before he can go, staring at him with pleading eyes.

“Stay. Dance with me, Alexander,” he purrs into the quiet of the loft, suddenly not wanting his roommate to leave yet.

Alec looks back at him and rolls his eyes slightly. “Magnus, you know I can’t dance for shit.”

“So we’ll slow dance. Anyone can slow dance,” Magnus suggests.

“You can’t slow dance to eighties pop, Magnus.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alexander, you can slow dance to anything.”

“No, you can’t. You can only slow dance to slow music. That’s why it’s called slow dancing and not all-purpose movement of the body for any song that’s convenient at the time,” Alec says, appearing equally exasperated and endeared.

“Just one song,” Magnus coaxes. “Just finish this one with me and then go to bed.”

Alec stares at him for a second with an inscrutable expression before relenting. “Might as well make the neighbors hate us as much as possible.”

Magnus beams and goes to switch the stereo back on, letting Whitney pick up where she left off, then tugs Alec close again, tangling their fingers together and winding the other arm around the other man’s waist.

“This is bizarre,” Alec whispers, resting his forehead on Magnus’s shoulder as they begin to sway gently to the rhythm.

“I never claimed to be anything but,” Magnus replies.

 

***

 

One song turns into two, and then three, and then four.

Magnus’s taste doesn’t stick to anything specific, the songs ranging across multiple different genres, and none of them anything very conducive to slow dancing. Still, they don’t stop their slow, steady movement, neither of them speaking as they sway, hands linked and chests pressed together. Magnus isn’t sure of how much time passes before a song with a slower tempo finally comes on, the minutes slipping away as they sway there in the middle of the apartment together.

Alec looks up at him. “You realize this is the first song that’s come on that could actually be counted as anything even remotely close to a slow dance song?”

Magnus hums in response but says nothing, staring back at his roommate with an enraptured expression he doesn’t think he can conceal.

“What is it?” Alec asks, sensing the change in his demeanor.

Magnus pauses, and they stop moving. Alec looks at him inquisitively.

Magnus looks directly into his eyes and gets the same fierce wave of affection, intermingled with the thousand other emotions he gets whenever he looks at Alec, and makes a split second decision.

“Alexander,” he murmurs into the quiet of the space between them. “Kiss me.”

It’s somewhere in between a command and a request. Alec’s eyes widen slightly, but he only hesitates a second before leaning forward, closing the remaining gap between their bodies as he brings his hands up to cup Magnus’s face gently.

And then they’re kissing.

And oh, god, if Magnus could have imagined this countless times before he still wouldn’t have gotten it right; there’s a sigh, from which of them he doesn’t know, right before their eyes fall shut and their lips touch, and then they finally  _ are _ touching, sliding together perfectly like they’ve done it millions of times before, and Alec’s lips are soft and warm and unhurried beneath his own, and Magnus wants to drown in the sensation, let it overcome him and pull him under until this is the only thing he can feel anymore. The music fades into white noise in the background and silk rustles against silk, Alec tilting his head to get a better angle. Magnus accepts gladly, kissing him back with every emotion he has or has ever had for his roommate and Alec reciprocates, each of them pouring everything they haven’t said over the past few years into one kiss. They move in tandem, passionate but without urgency, letting themselves fall together and find a rhythm as they explore each others mouths. Magnus’s hands snake around Alec’s waist and pull him closer, sliding up his back as Alec’s hands move to his hair, threading themselves through the strands as the two of them both attempt to eliminate any space left between them.

When they finally draw back they’re both gasping. Alec looks up at Magnus through his eyelashes. His lips are slightly pink and he looks even more disheveled than he did before, and Magnus feels a brief flash of pride to have been the cause.

He’s beautiful.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “So that’s what it was.”

“Yes,” Magnus replies, not knowing what else to say that doesn’t involve proposing marriage or swooning right there in Alec’s arms. In an attempt to stop himself from doing either, he says the next thing that comes to mind. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while. Would you ever want to go out with me sometime? On a date.”

“Oh, good, I wasn’t sure what you meant,” Alec says, giving him a smirk that’s too besotted to stay sarcastic for long. “Yes. Of course I would. I think I just made that clear,” he adds with a genuine smile. Magnus feels like swooning again under the force of it.

“Good,” he says, smiling back and pressing a kiss to the inside of Alec’s wrist.

 

They wake up together the next morning entwined on the couch.


End file.
